


SI-LENCE

by Skullszeyes



Category: Banana Bus Squad, Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Ableism, Blood, Blood Loss, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Disturbing Themes, Emotionally Repressed, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Horror, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Mild Sexual Content, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mount Massive Asylum, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Outlast: Whistleblower, POV Alternating, POV Male Character, POV Third Person, Panic, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Psychosis, Sexual Abuse, Survival Horror, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-02-10 04:56:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18653335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skullszeyes/pseuds/Skullszeyes
Summary: Evan receives an email from an old friend and he finds himself at Mount Massive Asylum, looking for evidence for its heinous past, and whatever he can find within to permanently shut it down. Except, what he finds is a lot worse than what he expects, and Jonathan is on the other side, dealing with his own issues, as they both roam throughout the asylum trying to find more information and to get out before they're the next victims among many who are scattered throughout the building.





	1. Mount Massive Asylum

**Author's Note:**

> Alright. This is the fanfic I promised myself to write, and hopefully some people do enjoy reading this fic! :D I've always loved the first game, including its DLC. (I like the second game, but it didn't live up to the first and the DLC.)
> 
> In this fic, Evan will take on Miles Upshur's role, and Jonathan will be Waylon Park. There will be a bit of differences towards the ending of this fic, and will have chunks of their POV's here and there before they come together. :D (I did write up a rough outline, so I'm going to figure out the full outline, and see how many chapters there will be.) 
> 
> So, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

I have to make this quick. They might be monitoring.

I did two weeks of software consult of MURKOFF Psychiatric Systems’ Facilities in Mount Massive. All sorts of NDA’s, I am very much breaking right now but seriously, fuck those guys.

Terrible things are happening here. Don’t understand it. Don’t believe half the things I saw. Doctors talking about dream therapy going too deep. Finding something that have been waiting for them in the mountain. People are being hurt and Murkoff are making money.

It needs to be exposed.

* * *

 

Evan read over the email he printed out earlier that evening. It brought him out into the mountains, if it wasn’t for the name addressing him, he wouldn’t have bothered. Now that he was here, in a place he didn’t particular wanted to be at, there was no turning back. It was a lead, something to get under before its swept away, and surely this guy is freaked the fuck out. Might as well see what Murkoff has been doing for the last several decades of its shady existence.

He set the paper inside the folder he had brought and dropped it on the seat. Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, he let out a breath before getting out of the car. It was eerie, a cold shiver ran along his skin as he stared up at the building. Mount Massive Asylum. It was tall and ominous with a yellow light from the thick trucks left in front of it.

Swallowing his fear, Evan reached for his camcorder and got out of the car. He had to videotape as much stuff as he could. Get enough evidence, and possibly find any files on the place that could easily shut the place down.

He heard the rumors, and there were a lot of people in the past who tried to figure out what Murkoff were doing, but those people were quickly silenced. And when he meant silenced, they disappeared, everything about them was taken off the grid, deleted and erased. It sent many away from the case itself, knowing that if they ever got too deep, it would mean death.

And it only added to the horror aspect to this case. Trying to find information on it with a computer from miles and miles away would do nothing. So many cases of people dying, disappearing. Until the one who had sent him the email greenlit the chances of this coming to a close. He’d have to take the risk, and he did without a second thought, knowing he might not get out alive.

The regret eased its way along his skin as he touched the cold doorknob to the front double doors, but it didn’t budge, and looking through the windows was futile. He could barely see anything but something thick and dark splattered on the floors.

Glancing either way, he knew he’d have to find a way in somehow. Turning the camcorder on and taping the environment as he checked both sides. One end didn’t have an opening and he wasn’t about to climb the black metal gate, and the other was strange, the bars on the left side was bent on the bottom, forcing Evan to crawl underneath to get onto the other side of the gate.

Turning his camera up to the windows, some were lit with a dim yellow light, others were completely dark. And he blinked when he spotted it. Someone was watching him from the far left corner window on the third floor, and when they noticed him, they disappeared from the window.

“Who the fuck was that?” he asked, and swallowed thickly as he closed in on the scaffolding, testing it with one foot on the platform before climbing to one tier and then the next with caution, and to his distress, a board was missing to get onto the other side.

“Shit.” Evan turned off his camcorder, took a few steps back, and ran, jumping off one end to the other side. His blunt fingernails digging into the wood as he pulled himself up. His entire body thrumming with slight adrenaline while the scaffolding moved, dust and dirt filtered around him as Evan headed along the board to the other side and found there was nowhere else to go, he silently swore to himself before looking up.

A window was left wide open, the white curtains slightly moving with the cold wind. There was a strong smell of rain in the air, and by the time the night gets to its peak, the mountain will be covered in a thick storm.

Either way, he had to go in, this was to recover the truth of this place, the dark secrets drenched in shadow and blood. He’d have to make the choice, take one for the team like his friend had, and do something he wouldn’t have thought he’d do.

Evan jumped to the window ledge and pulled himself inside the building where all those horror stories bled together. The ones of mental health patients dying one after the other without any cause. The staff either being admitted into the asylum, or dying by unknown circumstances. Including the journalists and interviewers who tried to get a scoop on the place for years and being completely ignored, their careers destroyed in a single day, dying with their entire family in a gruesome or oddly natural way, or simply disappearing.

It was these negative thoughts that rooted Evan to the floor. He had family, friends, a career, and if he retrieved enough information on it without being caught, detained, or killed, then he’ll successfully out a large Organization that has been going on for more than decades, possibly centuries.

And his friend was still in the building, he hoped. He may be simple minded, but he can take care of himself, and if Evan keeps to himself, and doesn’t run into anyone unsavory, then he can possibly find everything he’s looking for.

While he was thinking about this and trying not to sike himself out. The dim yellow light within the room near several knocked over bookshelves and boxes flickered and went out. His relief wilted as he grasped his camcorder, turned it back on, and he looked for the night vision he specifically wanted for it, the reason why he bought the thing in the first place.

Once it was on, Evan shuddered and glanced around the completely dark room, the only way he could see was the camcorder. And when he looked down, he backed away, sucking in a sliver of breath as his back hit the wall, and his eyes were fixed on the black streaks on the carpet that were coming from beneath the shelves and boxes. Now that he had a more open look upon the place, there were chairs knocked over, papers crumpled or discarded along with the streaks, and when he went to try and step around it, his shoes made a squelching sound.

“That’s fucking gross,” he muttered, cringing as he tried again to step around the splatters, but instead there were crackling coming from beneath his shoes. “Glass…” The side he was still standing on was covered in it. He looked around the room and noticed a door cracked open and walked over to it, grasping the knob and pulling it open, he peeked around the corner.

Both ends of the halls were blocked off with either empty shelves, a dirty mattress, and boxes either knocked over or stacked. What made it worse was the left side was dark, the light either burned out or shattered from the shards littering the mattress, while the other side was blocked. There was only one way through and it was the door three feet in front of him, left ajar with light seeping throughout the room, and it was cleaner than the last he was in.

_There’s no one here…_

That’s the first thing he thinks of as he walks into the room, and jumps when the TV turns on to a monochrome static. Glaring, he licks his lips, finding them dry as he heads for the only other door in the room.

_It’s too quiet. Where is everyone?_

Evan didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing. That he hadn’t found anyone yet, and maybe...it’s the reason why _he_ had sent the message in the first place. Something dangerous was tearing it apart from the inside...and this was a good time to get enough information on it before Murkoff cleans it up.

“Shit, shit, shit shit,” Evan says as he leaves the room and enters the hall on the other side of the bookshelves. Another light flickers, but this one stays on, more papers layer the floor. This hall is also almost blocked off with a bookshelf, another mattress, but what freaks Evan out more as he slides through is the blood under the flickering light. At first he wants to deny it, but he can’t, not when he gets closer to it and turns his camcorder back on.

His fingers are shaking so bad that he points the camera and zooms in. Blood. A puddle of it on the stained yellow floor. “What the fuck?” He glances into another room to his left, a desk light is on, including a computer, and to not get close to the blood, he enters the room and finds a battery.

Evan furrows his brows and checks the one in his camera. It’s the same size, and exactly the same battery. “I only brought four…” And he knew then he should’ve brought more as he pocketed the battery with the ones he had, knowing by the time he leaves, he might not have enough information on him if his camcorder ever loses power.

He rubs his hands together, picking the camcorder up, he leaves the room and walks slowly down the hall until he stops to another door. This one closed, but its enough of a distraction to ignore the splatter of blood on the walls. Pushing the door open, he cringes at the darkness, including the phone going off, but he glances toward a file sitting on a desk.

Easing into the room, Evan sets the camcorder down to pick up the document. He opens it and finds its labeled — Project Walrider.

He skims over the document, finding a patient named Billy, aged nineteen years old, male. Something about a MORPHOGENIC ENGINE, including lucid dreaming.

Evan takes a photo of the documents, archiving the information.

“This is a good...start,” he says, leaving the room and walking down the hall. There’s a frosted glass windows at the end, and before he could try one of the three doors, a sudden harsh breathing frightens him and the door to the left closes shut, the lock sliding into place. He stares, his heart beating rapidly inside his chest.

“Oh...fuck…” he whispers, turning his gaze to the open door to his left and spotting two vending machines brightly lit. When he enters, he knows for sure he’s not going to get used to seeing the blood. He documents as much as he can and finds himself staring down at a rusted metal tray with one of the cans from the vending machine sitting on the side, cracked open, and some kind of...squiggly thing that looks similar to something he doesn’t want to describe. “What the fuck is going on?” he asks, knowing it’s not an appropriate question to be asking as he walks back over to the puddle of blood, and the open vent above him.

Someone had created a makeshift board to reach the vent that was now wrenched free.

“This is not something I want to do,” Evan says, as he jumps for the vent, listening to it groan with his weight as he pulls himself up. He did a lot worse with this job that forced him to climb fences, run from the cops and their barking dogs, even when he had to climb out of a four story window to reach the ground for a scoop on a celebrity. He knew he wanted something dangerous, something more life risking, but the blood, the skin or piece of flesh on the tray was really crossing the line.

It didn’t matter, he was now crawling into the vent with his heart racing for him to move back, away from this place, and escape its utterly disgusting confines. And then he heard something, a loud gasping sound and he looked through the vent and his eyes widened at a man with a face disfigurement wearing brown toned clothes, torn and overused, he wasn’t wearing any socks, and seemed to scan the room with impatience and paranoia before slamming the door closed with a grunt.

“This is where I regret everything I’ve ever fucking done in my entire fucking stupid life,” Evan says, tearing his eyes away from the closed wooden door and toward the bright yellow light on the other side.

It was going to get worse, if what he had seen now was mild, he knew this place had its disturbing quality, the rumors, and the fears surrounding its mysterious cryptic and dangerous reputation was anything to go by.

He was going to die in this place, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.

And Evan took a breath, and continued to crawl to the end of the vent to whatever more awaited him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, the word count will be around 2k. I don't like writing looong chapters. Mostly because of motivational issues. Also, if there is a decline on updating, it's probably because of my mental illness, including that I did finish two manuscripts in April, and that I'll be working on a third in a week, and writing a second draft for the first ms I finished. :) So, I'll be busy with that, but I'll attempt to update any ongoing fanfics I do have when I'm not as busy with my original work.
> 
> Thanks for understanding.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.


	2. Human Carcasses In The Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan had found more than he thought he would find, in the dark and in the light, surrounded by glass.

Evan grasped the end of the vent and pulled himself forward, he peeked his head to the side, and found this end of the hall was also empty and barricaded. Taking a breath, he jumped from the vent and landed on his feet. There was no other sound around him, which continued with the eerie factor of this place. At least he hadn’t gotten to the gore and dead bodies yet.

“Well...this might be going better than I thought,” he said, his legs wobbly as he touched the frosted window and looked to the main floor. It seemed it was the foyer, and there was someone sitting in a chair in the center of the room in front of the desk. They were slumped to the side, and dark splotches layered the floor on either end. He didn’t want to think of who was down there, and what they were doing. He didn’t particularly think they were doing anything.

There was another barricade, it stopped him from moving onto the other side of the hallway. Except there was a door to his right that was left slightly open. His only way, and it was labeled with Library on the front. 

“Libraries...are usually good…” Evan said to himself as he pushed the door open, and gasped hard when something appeared swinging in front of him. He stumbled back, hitting the window and hearing it groan with his weight as his legs failed him, and he slid to the floor, clutching his camcorder in his hands.

He swallowed the built up spit in his mouth and took a few evened breaths to calm himself down when he realized no one was attacking him. Sniffling, he turned his camcorder on and pressed the night vision button, rising to his feet, he took slow steps dark drenched room. There was a foul stench of something rotting inside, whatever dust compiled on the books and shelves had been overpowered by this awful smell. 

When he looked closely at what had swung at him. Evan stepped back, shock rippled throughout his body when he stared at what was now lying on the floor, discarded and lifeless. He stared too long before turning his gaze to another body, this one was hung from its foot off the ground. And from what he could see as he drew closer, was that it was missing a head. 

“It’s...fucking...decapitated,” he whispered, sucking in a harsh breath. What the fuck was he doing here? Why was he still walking deeper into the room as he stepped by the body, and the flies covering it. His shoes dipped in blood as the camcorder turned toward the shelves and he went still once more. 

There were...a lot...of heads on the shelves. A collection of them next to the books as if some kind of sick joke. He wanted to believe that they weren’t real, but as he stepped around the next shelf, there was the slightest hitching of breath and gurgling sounds that wasn’t coming from him. He glanced at the thick mound of bodies lying on the floor in the corner, covered in flies and gnats. More heads, and this time, body parts, numerous of them in a sick slush of blood and organs.

It was too dark to distinguish most of them, or even the color of it. But it was enough to know what he was now stepping in, and why the room was thick in the stench of rotted bodies, pus, and blood. 

The body that was struck through with some kind of long metal bar gasped out, reaching out for Evan who backed away against the shelf. He didn’t think to run, only to stare as the bald headed man in heavy tactical clothing choked and wheezed, before he managed to find his words. “They killed us! They got out! The Variants!” 

“What the fuck?” Evan shuddered.

“You can’t fight them! You have to hide!” The man warned, reaching out for him again, but he slumped over, already having used his last breath to warn Evan who had gone still except his shaking hands, one of them clutching his camcorder that was staring fixated at the dead man surrounded by someone’s victims. 

“Oh fuck...oh fuck...oh fuck…” Evan slowly turned away from the man, his stomach burned, and his hand clutched his throat as he wandered toward a closed door. Reaching for the knob, he was about to walk out when he heard something else. The wood creaking down the hall, and when he peeked to see who it was, he spotted a brute of a man, partly naked with disfigurements all over his body. He was murmuring to himself and dragging around heavy clinking chains as he left the hall and entered another room. 

“Who the fuck is that?” he asked himself as he inched his way out of the room and closed the door behind him. The hall was quiet again, but all he could feel is his heart racing inside his chest, his fingers shaking, and his thoughts yelling at him at why he’s bothering to stay anymore than what he had just witnessed in the other room.

“Criminal insane asylum…” he murmured as he walked down the hall and took a left toward the double doors where the man had went through. He can still smell the burning aching stench coming from the room with the decapitated heads, organs, and the dead man. 

He had never seen anyone die. Not up close, and not in the way that he had been. It was grotesque, no sign of mercy, not with the piles and piles of dismembered body parts. 

He had the urge to release what was inside his stomach. His chest tightened, and its difficult to grasp for any comfort when there was no comfort alive in this place. All he had to go on was the email, the camcorder, and the secrets within this building, and he had to continue. Even if he didn’t want too. 

Getting a hold of himself, Evan pushed away from the wall and tried the knobs on the doors and found they were locked. 

“Figures, with my luck.” Wrinkling his nose, he ventured along the hall to another section, past several knocked over chairs and plants, he found one way through, and that was a barricade made up of an old TV stand, an empty bookshelf, and a metal filing cabinet, tables and chairs piled up on one side. There was a slim opening that he could try and sneak through, it would be tight, but he had to get onto the other side to find more information. And hopefully he didn’t run into anyone. 

“Okay, I got this,” he said, about to slide through the gap when he heard the rough shuffling, and before he could react, his arm was grasped and he was yanked away from the barricade.

“Little pig!” The large man picked him up off the ground, and all Evan could was scream, flailing his arms and legs, swearing, and in retaliation, the man threw him against the frosted glass, shattering it completely, and tossed him off the second floor of the asylum. He screamed until he hit the ground, breaking it off, and easing out a groan between his dried lips.

His vision came in and out, shadowed on the sides as he tried to move, but the room blurred while the pain warmed his entire body, forceing another groan from his lips. 

He should leave. Go home and sleep. That sounds like a good— 

Evan blinks his eyes open, and he turns his head, a shadow blocks the light above and he can barely make the outline of a man knelt before him in a dark dress of some kind with white stained straps. He’s bald, and turning his head to inspect him. 

“And who are you, then?” he asked, almost reverently. 

Evan is too groggy to answer the man and he blacks out for only a moment before opening his eyes again. 

The man seemed to have taken enough time to look through his camcorder. At everything he had managed to record since he arrived, and he lifted his chin to the ceiling, a sort of glazed expression mixed with awe appeared on his face.

“I...I see. Merciful God, you have sent me an apostle,” the man revels, setting the camcorder down and looking directly at Evan. “Guard your life, son, you have a calling.”

He can barely say anything to the man as he blacks out again. He could hardly understand what the man was talking about. And when he falls unconscious, he isn’t sure how long it has been as he finally regains consciousness, moving his fingers and trying to breathe more clearly as he pushes himself into a sitting position.

“He…must’ve been one of those Variants that guy was talking about,” Evan says, touching his chest before moving along his sides and then his neck. There isn’t any breaks, no fractures. Nothing that could deter him to whatever horror was occupying this place. At least he was sure he might have a concussion of some sort, but it wasn’t bothering him at the moment.

Clearing his throat, Evan reached for the camcorder the man had set down and slowly rose to his feet. His legs wobbled and the room tilted one way and the next, but he managed to keep himself steady enough to glance around. The shards of glass stuck to his clothes and he pulled a few free, and almost choked out a gasp when he noticed the bodies, the organs and fluids in browns and yellows, the blood, the awful stench coating the air, and the silence. 

“Ah, fuck, fuck,” Evan whispered, turning his camcorder on and taping the bodies as he walked around the room, documenting what he was seeing before moving toward the front desk. There was a man slouched in the chair, blood covered the front of his uniform and the wound seemed to have come from a deep cut from his throat. 

He noticed a folder sitting on the desk and picked it up. Setting his camcorder down, he opened the document and found a file on Environmental Contamination and a warrant because of it. 

Evan picked up the camcorder and video taped what he had found, hoping to understand what was going on from the documents he kept finding lying around. It seemed from what was going on was that there was an outbreak amongst the patients, including the security force who had tried to contain it. 

He was surprised there weren’t anymore people watching the entrance, but they managed to hold it down quite well, if it wasn’t for the man stalking the front, Evan wouldn’t have been deterred quite so easily. 

Evan wipes the sweat from his hands onto his shirt, and knows after this, if there is an afterwards, that he’s going to burn his clothes. Throw them away might even help, but he’s afraid the disturbing reek of this place would never truly be rid of unless he burns it. His own hands are stained without bothering to touch a single contaminated thing filled with the insides of a human carcass that spilled onto the maroon colored rug. 

When he looks around, all he could think of is the sepia colors bleeding into his mind. All he would think of when he first arrived as the sunset faded while the night took over. The storm would try and wash everything away, but the ruin of this place would stay.

He checked the computer and found there was no signal, including the phone. He came to the realization that there was no calling for help of any kind, his phone had gone out a mile off, so he should’ve realized being inside the building that the staff or whoever was running it was trying to keep it under wraps as much as they could.

The amount of murders happening was thick, and if the government themselves, that weren’t connected to Murkoff, found out about this. It would be instantly shut down and cleaned up. 

He had to find more information, and that meant continuing. 

“Feels like a threat,” Evan says, knowing that it was from what he had witnessed, he knew there was more, a lot more within the silence.


	3. Dead Bodies & Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan needs to find a key card, even if he was frightened of continuing his exploration of the asylum.

Evan ventured toward the hallway that was eerily quiet. He was slow, and even how much he hoped that his friend’s were with him, he was forced to check out the hallways alone. The elevator was covered in a mesh steel, while the left hallway was blocked off, and didn’t look like a way he wanted to venture when all he could see was a dim light, and a flickering one further down. 

He turned to the right where there was nothing blocking off the right hallway. He peers down and imagines a puddle of ketchup one of his friend’s dropped on his kitchen floor, a prank that makes Evan halfheartedly laugh. Except, what he’s looking at isn’t ketchup with a trail leading down the steps, and it’s more disturbing by the knocked over wheel chair that’s covered with a maroon stain.

He tried his hardest to not smell anything, but it was difficult when the metal was easing into a more distinct rotting scent that wasn’t anything like a penny on the tongue. He didn’t really know why kids put coins in their mouths anyways, but that wasn’t the point. 

Evan forces his eyes away from the stain and knocked over chair, and walks toward the right hallway. His heart thuds with each step he takes, a faster jolt of anxiety that almost made him gasp while his entire body had gone still at the sight of a man down the hallway, stumbling toward a door before rushing inside, and slamming it closed. 

The echo sends jitters across Evan’s body. It takes him a little too long to move, “Who the fuck was that?” he asked, fingers lacing through the steel mesh on the side of the doorpost. 

Evan’s mouth had gone dry by the sudden fright of the man, and when he finally realizes he’s alone once again. He pushes himself to move along the wall down the hallway until he comes to the bathroom. 

The scent is strong, way too much that he almost gags, and covers his mouth with his sleeve. He’s frightened of glancing inside at what he would find. Unable to believe there was more to this place. There’s no door, which would in some way make sense since Mount Massive is a sanitarium, and from the way things were turning out. He couldn’t believe he wasn’t having some kind of fever dream. 

He enters the bathroom, glancing inside and breathes heavily at the sight of the red puddle on the ground. It’s not like the maroon sinking into the white fabric of the wheelchair, this was different, it was wet and recent. 

Evan eases toward one of the doors, pushing it open and slightly relieved when he finds nothing in it. The next one has a lot more blood, and the strength of the stench within the room makes him dizzy. 

“Don’t check...for fuck sakes,” he whispered to himself, reaching for the middle stall, and slowly pulling it open, and he goes still at the sight of a man leaning forward on the toilet. The blood soaking the tile floor came from him, and there’s writing on the wall that looked as if someone had written it with their finger tips dipped in this man’s blood. 

WITNESS.

What did it mean? 

It didn’t matter. Evan shuddered as he closed the bathroom stall door, stumbled back and reached for the doorpost to keep himself from falling over. His legs were shaking so bad, while his hand covered his stomach. Sooner or later, he was going to throw up. He took a few seconds of breathing hard, and squeezing his eyes shut to get a hold of himself. He had seen another dead body, and he was not going to check the other stall. There might be a body in there too. 

“I just have to get through this,” Evan said, stepping away from the bathroom and looking to the room across from him. The door had been ripped from the hinges, and he could already see a dim yellow light inside that barely shown the entire room, besides a metal shelf in the center. 

Evan cautiously walked into the room and grimaced when his feet landed in something wet. It was too dark too see, but the strong disgusting smell that no longer reminded him of rust or coins filled the entirety of the room told him what it was he was stepping in. 

“Blood everywhere,” he whispered, contemplative, taking out his camcorder. He stepped around the metal shelves and spotted where the light was coming from, a broken ceiling light had fallen, and clung to the remaining wire. There were two men, one sitting on a chair with his head tilted back, covered in blood, while the second man laid on the ground, soaked in his own blood, while splatters of it hit the desk and the computer screen. 

“Who the fuck…” Evan stepped back, covering his mouth and nose with his hand, while his other held the camcorder as it recorded what he was seeing. “This is fucking disgusting.” He clenched his teeth when he noticed his own footprints in the blood, and another disturbed shudder ran through him as he backed away. 

He had to get out of here. 

He walked back out of the room, feeling a sliver of relief, but knew he wasn’t out of the sanitarium, just out of that blood soaked room with two dead bodies. He let out a short yet nervous chuckle as he slowed his pace and went still in the middle of the hallway. It wasn’t catching up to him, was it? Or was he truly trying to pretend none of this was real even though he kept coming into contact with it, each time staring it in the face. 

Was he even going to get out of this place alive? Was that possible?

“I have to keep going,” he said, trying his best to forget what he had seen as he ambled down the hallway, ignoring the smeared blood on the wall, and papers scattered on the floor. There was one room to his right that was blocked off entirely by thin wooden pieces that were nailed to the wall. 

The room to the left was another story. Two windows sat on either side of the door that said SECURITY on the front, and he could see the light of the computer screens. Evan reached for the doorknob and when he tried to open it, he was caught off guard that it was locked. 

He looked to his left and a keypad sat on the side, pressing his hand over the red light, and cursed under his breath. “Shit. I need a key card.”

Why was this night getting more difficult. He was still a little freaked out by the blood and the dead bodies, that his limbs took a bit of time to move. He walked along the wall, keeping his hand on it as he made his way to two doors sitting across from one another. 

Evan bit his lip as he looked to room A125. The same room the man he had spotted ran into. Tentatively, he walked toward it, reached for the knob and twisted it. To his relief, it was locked. “Oh, thank fuck…” The room across from it was missing its door, but unlike the previous room, he didn't see any puddles of blood anywhere.

“We didn’t choose this!” a voice came from the locked door he had tried opening. Evan backed away as the voice grew aggressive on the other side, “why should we have to pay for it? Why do we have to die? Walker will kill us all for being sick. We’re still people. We didn’t choose this.”

Evan was leaning against the wall next to the room that was missing a door. His mouth was dry, and his hands were shaking. The man on the other side was no longer talking, but he waited a moment before he collected himself and walked into the next room.

“This is fucked up,” he said to himself. This room was a lot more lenient on the blood and dead bodies that Evan felt a bit of relief until he came toward the desk, and peered over when he spotted the dark thick splotches staining the brown carpet. 

He grimaced at the dead body lying on the ground, the chair pushed to the side, and the computer screen giving him a bit of light that he didn’t want. “What the fuck?” This place is fucking messed up as he rounded the desk, and the body wasn’t lying on the floor as he thought it was. The body had been completely bent the wrong way, and the man had died like that, but from the deep wounds, he could’ve died beforehand. 

“I’m never going to get used to this,” Evan muttered, spotting something sitting on the desk away from the dead body. He tried not to step in the blood, but failed as he reached for the file that held the documents. He stepped away from the body and the blood and wandered over to sit down on the clean brown chairs. 

He opened it and scanned the document within. It was an email from someone named Helen Grant to Murkoff. It seems they were making sure everything was safe for what they were trying to do, or that no one found out, including family members to the patients within Mount Massive Asylum. 

Morphogenic Engine Therapy? 

Evan scowled at the document as he placed his camcorder over it and made sure it was turned on so he could analyze it later on. If there was a later on. 

Evan left the room and looked down the rest of the hall. There was a red exist sign, but when he tried to open the door, it was locked, while the door to his left was the same door leading into the room he had previously come out of. 

“I have to backtrack,” Evan muttered, heading back down the hallway, passing all the rooms he had checked out, and ignoring the blood and dead bodies he had come across. It was getting easier to the point he didn’t have to acknowledge it again now that it was a stain inside his mind. 

He didn’t need to go back to the main room, and the only place he could head to was the stairs, except when he descended them, ignoring the water spewing from one of the pipes, the door at the bottom was locked. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he said under his breath as he headed back up the stairs and looked around with his camcorder. One of the bodies had to be holding the keycard he needed for the security room, and that meant, he had to check them until he finds them. 

Evan wandered around, poking a few bodies with his foot, checking the man at the front desk, only to notice something in the dark to his right. He used the night vision on his camcorder and found an opening to the glass wall where several lights came from the computer screens on the other side.

“More dead bodies,” he muttered, stepping over one of them as he checked the desks, touching the keyboards and the mouses, but none of them worked. A dead body was lying on the ground in the middle of the room where a light came from the back hall, including a puddle of blood.

This place was caked with the stuff as Evan stepped over it and walked into another filing room. He checked around the cabinet and found another document sitting on the shelf. 

He glanced to the doorway but heard nothing. This was getting to him, the shadows and the eeriness of the silence around him played with his paranoia and fear. He didn’t want to run into that guy again who attacked him, so he stood against the shelf and opened the document, he used a part of his camcorder to help him read what was inside the file.

Project Walrider: Patient Status Report For Chris Walker. 

“Who the fuck is Chris Walker?” Evan muttered.

Case Number: 136

Patient Initials: CLW “Walker”

Patient Age: 32

Gender: Male

Observing Physician: Dr. Rudolf Wernicke (notation by Dr. Walsh)

“He was an experiment for the Morphogenic Engine…” Evan whispered, curious of what it was, and what it truly meant. He knew that this was the reason why he came here, to gain insight and evidence of the organization, of what they’ve been doing to the patients. It was getting more dangerous to linger, but he had too, and maybe when he has enough sufficient evidence, he can get the fuck out of here.

He recorded what he found and headed out of the room. He checked the corners of the doorway to his left, one side was closed off by a meshed door, the other was a hallway leading to a flickering light, and underneath it sat someone in a wheelchair in the middle of the hallway. 

“Oh, for fuck sakes,” Evan said, easing out of the doorway and along the wall, until he went still as he heard the man’s labored breathing. “He’s alive…” The man was bald like the last one he had seen, and he was mumbling to himself, lolling his head back and forth. 

Evan’s breath shuddered as he slowly walked by him, gripping the camcorder as he gaped at the man’s appearance. He didn’t mean to stare as much as he did, but the man in the wheelchair was incredibly emaciated with dry skin all over. His ribs were pushing against the skin as if it were trying to get out of the frail body. He had scars along his chest and arms, but other than that, he was also twitching, shaking, and mumbling. 

He backed away, unsure of what he was meant to do, and as he headed toward a room where a sound was coming from. His heart raced almost out of his chest at the sight of three grown men sitting inside, and they weren’t dead or covered in blood. 

They, however, wore hospital clothes, and were bald as the men Evan had come across since he entered the asylum. They didn’t seem to notice him as he stepped into the room, feeling awkward, the three men ignored his presence, and were fixated on the blood splattered TV that had a fuzzy screen. 

Evan taped them as he walked around them while their gazes stayed fixed on the TV screen. Unlike the rooms that smelled of blood, this one was stale. He tried not to breathe as he made his way to the other side of the room. 

They survived this place, but there was no one home.

They didn’t seem to register anything, not him, and not of each other. 

Maybe that was the better option than what else was within the asylum. If only Evan could pretend none of this was real, could shut off his fears, but he wasn’t like them, and he didn’t see the extent of what they went through. It terrified him, because soon, he might even understand what they’re going through soon enough. 

Evan opened a door that was surprisingly not locked. However, another body was sitting on a chair in front of a bright computer screen. He was completely covered in blood, the stains thick and maroon, but the other thing was that he had a key card pinned to the front of his shirt. 

“Oh shit,” Evan said, feeling a small bit of triumph that he found it. He reached for it, and took off the clip. “Okay, now I can get the fuck out of here.” Without looking back, Evan left the room with the dead body, the three men sitting in front of the TV with blank expressions, and slowed at the sight of the man on the wheelchair.

He tightly held onto the key card and walked toward the man, and then the man, pushed himself with whatever strength he had, and launched himself at Evan who yelped and fell backwards, not expecting the man to attack him.

“Get them out!” the man yelled in a nasally voice, his dry hands wrapped around Evan’s throat, choking him with bony fingers, “the Doctor is dead! Rip them clean! You have to help me!”

“Get off! Get the fuck off of me!” Evan pushed against him and the man hit him in the side of the head, spots appeared in Evan’s vision, but when he pushed himself up, his own hand touching his throat as the man crawled away behind the wheelchair, cowering and whimpering. 

“Holy fuck,” Evan said, getting up from the floor and making his way around the man who shuddered and cried in his bony arms. “Oh fuck, for fuck sakes…” Evan watched the man for a moment before turning around and heading out of the hallway. 

He didn’t know what was worse, the piles of dead bodies and puddles of blood he’s been coming across, or the inmates who had been cruelly experimented on, and were violent, yet filled to the brink of fear and numbness.

Evan did notice as he sprinted through the halls, past the bodies and the blood, that the only bodies he’s been seeing the most were the ones who worked in Mount Massive Asylum, and not the inmates themselves. 


	4. Fight or Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One thing becomes another, and another, and another, even when its in the dark.

Evan almost ran into the wall, his legs shaking, and he’s afraid they might buckle and fall. His heart is thudding so hard, and even though he would like to catch his breath, Evan doesn’t stop until he’s in front of the grey door with SECURITY on the front. He placed the card against the pad and the light blinks green. His breath is shaking as he twists the cold handle and pushed the door open. 

He doesn’t shudder at the body lying against the wall, but he does at the splatter of blood on the ground, and words displayed on the wall with _they lie_ written in that same blood that had come from one of the guards.

Evan grits his teeth and glanced at all of the screens. Only a few were active, while the others were either a black screen or fuzzy like an old TV. A few files sit on the panel, including a cup with cold coffee. He grabbed the chair and sat down, pulling himself close to the keyboard, he checks if it works, and a smile twitched on his face. It works. It fucking works.

He needed to access the security system, and he brought up a few screens until one particular screen shown a man standing in front of a lever. Evan leaned close, clenching his teeth, brows furrowed, confused of what he was doing. 

And then, the man pulled the lever down, and to Evan’s terror, the entire room, computers, and the hall went into complete darkness. All he could hear for a moment was his own panting breath as he sat in the chair, gripping the hand wrists, trying to figure out what the fuck he was going to do.

That fucking bastard. The priest had cut off the power. There could be more inmates wandering around, more bodies, puddles of blood, and Evan still didn’t know how to get out of here, or how he was going to get his evidence on this sick place. 

“Fuck,” Evan muttered, “I can’t see.” 

Then he shuddered when faint yellow lights appeared inside the room. The generator turned on a few lights, and he sighed in relief that he wasn’t drenched in darkness, but what he was afraid of the most was that he wasn’t alone anymore. 

Evan blinked, looking toward the window and pressed his face against it when the low grunts began to grow louder, firmer, closer. 

“Oh shit,” Evan whispered, pushing himself away and looking for a place to hide. “Oh shit, oh shit, I need to hide, I need to fucking hide right now!” He opened a locker and stuck himself inside, pulling the door closed. “He’s coming, oh fuck…”

He looks through the slits in the locker as his heart jolts with each thud against the door. He’s so afraid he can’t even move, and the cold within the building isn’t registering in his head, not even the bodies. This is what he’s afraid of. Being caught by one of these people, getting killed and left against a wall with his blood painted on the wall. 

Worse, as the door is slammed to the concrete ground, the sound shattering Evan’s capability of breathing any louder as the the large man appeared in the doorway, growling and grunting, a heavy breath, then words muttered out of his mouth.

“You were here…weren’t you?” the chains clink with his movements, body slightly bent, a hunch on his back as he scans the bodies. “Little pig. I’ll find you…” The rest of the words are slurred out as he turned away from the locker Evan is hiding in, breath stuck in his throat, heart unable to stop thumping, while his eyes are wide and watching the large man exiting the room, the yellow light makes the blood upon his skin look a lot more stark than the deep stitches marring his shoulders and neck.

Evan doesn’t allow himself to breathe while the heavy thumps of the man walks off. And when he’s finally forced to take a breath, he’s panting, heart racing, all of it wanting to get out of his body, out of the tightly confined space he put himself in so he didn’t die a horrible death. He closes his eyes, trying to calm himself down before opening the locker door and stepping out. 

“Holy shit,” he mutters, legs barely able to hold himself up, and even if he does fall, he’s not even sure if he’ll be able to get back up. “It’s safe, right? It’s fucking safe?” He almost feels like laughing at the thought while standing a few feet away from a dead body and puddles of blood. 

He takes careful steps toward the door and looks down the hallway. The man isn’t there anymore, and without even thinking, Evan sprints down the dark hall, unsure of where he’s going, he just wants to put enough distance between him and that man. Lights barely help him find his way, but he does notice the staircase he had seen earlier. 

Evan grips the railing and he runs down the steps. A pipe was broken and was spewing water on the staircase, but he jumps over it when he spots the mesh door was now open, or someone had broken it open during the black out. 

“This is the only other place I have to go,” Evan whispers, gripping the camcorder and pressing a button on the top to reveal night vision. The entire basement was covered in darkness, and he didn’t want to accidentally run into anyone else.

That was Chris Walker from the patient file. It had to be him, and he was the one Evan really needed to make sure he didn’t run into. 

He had to turn the generators on. That was his goal right now. If he had to get help and record evidence, he had to turn the generators on. Evan squeezed his eyes shut. He knew he was thinking things way too much, but his own nerves were burning, and his ears were ringing, heart thumping. Oh shit. This was too much, way too fucking much. 

Evan was a little wary about the broken brick wall, easy enough to squeeze through, but it reminded him way too much of the bookcases and beds before he was yanked out, and thrown out a window. What if this was the same thing? 

He swallowed thickly and carefully stepped through. He was still freaked out even as he stared at the brick wall once he made it to the other side.  He frowned down at his feet where he was stepping in puddles of water. He glanced to the side and noticed a folder. He picked it up and placed his camcorder over it. 

“Hopefully if I survive this,” Evan whispered, letting his camcorder record the contents, “I’ll be able to read this and compile something to get these fuckers shut down.”

He set the document down once he was finished and walked across the room and past a threshold. Evan climbed over a desk and with a shaky hand, lifted his camcorder and pressed the night vision. 

“Why did you have to shut off the fucking power?” he asked himself about the priest. “Why oh why did you have to fuck up my life?”

The floors were completely flooded with water as he walked down the hallway. Evan finds himself gritting his teeth again when he hears the subtle sound of voices, all of them strangely distorted, bouncing off the walls, and as he walks deeper into the basement, the voices grow louder. 

“Who’s there? Who’s there...who’s…? I’ll hurt you!” Evan points the camcorder at a wooden wall, slightly broken, but he spots someone moving around on the other side, then they’re gone, the sound flattening out. 

“Shit,” Evan whispered, his shoes were soaked. “There’s more people down here…a lot more people...what the fuck? I need to find the back up generator.” He comes upon some kind of barricade, sturdy enough that he climbs onto it, trying his hardest to not make a sound. 

The room is bigger than the other rooms he had come across. And it’s also flooded with water, pieces of wood float throughout, and hopefully that’s the only thing that’s in the water.

With his luck, he might get something worse. 

Without the night vision, the entire room is drenched in darkness, and all that he can see is the front of a faint white screen with a two red lights shining on the side and the bottom of the panel. He walked up the steps, staring at it peculiarly and reads what’s on the screen of the panel. 

Main Breaker X

Gas Pump X

Gas Pump 2 X

“Oh,” Evan whispers, realization dawning on him, “you got to be fucking kidding me.” He slouches a bit, body going tense. “I have to find the fucking gas pumps!”

He turns away from the panel and brings up his camcorder. “All I have to do is navigate this fucking place,” he whispers as his feet sinks back into the ankle deep water. He goes still when he finds himself staring at a body hanging from a pipe on the ceiling. He stares too long, the blood coming from the throat, the face slack and empty.

Evan slowly turns away from it. “I have to find the gas pumps,” he mutters, walking away. He finds a staircase that leads to a closed door. This room is also dark with useless garbage and wood on the ground, but he does find one thing interesting. A faint green light surrounding  a oval looking thing sitting on the ground with a metal piece sticking up, a small green light emits from it. Evan walks over to it and he knows for sure this is one of the gas pumps. 

He curls his fingers and hits the button with the side of his hand, a sharp sound comes from the gas pump. He head back toward the door and goes still at a metal sliding together, followed by a heavy grunt as a door is slammed open. He sees through his camcorder’s night vision that the door hits the wall and falls to the concrete ground, the scraping is loud within the wide room, and it leaves a shiver down Evan’s spine as he spots a figure in the dark. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Evan mutters, backing up as the person walks towards him. “Shit, who the fuck is that?” And to be more of an idiot, Evan runs into the far corner of the room and squats down behind some kind of wide heater. 

His breathing is light behind his hand, while another sort of breathing enters the room. It’s ragged and heavy as they enter the room, and he can see that they’re holding something long and metal in their hand. A machete, possibly.

_Fuck, I’m going to die._

The man looks around, he’s breathing heavily, a gurgle in his throat. He’s looking for him by sound, and Evan stares at the man through his camcorder, once again afraid to move from where’s hiding. 

_Just leave, just leave, just fucking go, just fucking, fucking go!_

He watched the man wander out of the room, his steps aren’t heavy as Chris Walker’s, but they leave a sour taste in Evan’s mouth that he’s going to come across these types of people, and he hopes they don’t catch up if off guard. 

Evan carefully leaves the place where he’s been hiding the second the man walks out, and he stands in the threshold, hands shaking, heart thumping in his ears. He’s heading back toward the door he had broken through. 

“Don’t fucking tell me,” Evan said, dread falling over him, “that’s where the other gas pump is.” There’s nothing inside the large room, and the only other switch was in the room behind him. “Fuck!”

As he steps into the water, he catches sight of another door. He hadn’t noticed it from where he was standing, and he hopes that it leads into that area of the basement. 

“I just have to sneak by, press the switch,” Evan says quietly as he opens the door and he almost wants to cry when he spots the switch a few feet from where he’s standing. 

Evan almost runs to the switch when he presses it, and the second he turned around, he heard the low grunts coming from outside of the room. He walks toward the door, slow and steady, and stops himself from gasping in fright when he spots the man in the water. 

_What the fuck? Why are you over here?_

And to add to another dumb thing, Evan reached for the door to the room and slammed it closed. He twists around and glances all around the room, but there’s no where else to hide. The man outside for sure heard the door slam shut. 

“I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die!” Evan sobs, heart racing, and he almost, barely, drops the camcorder but finds a place in the dark where he can crouch down, hoping they don’t see him.

The man slams his foot against the wooden door several times, adding to Evan’s already anxiety ridden self, and then the door slams against the wall, and the growls enter the room, and all Evan can think of is that he can’t see him in the dark. 

The machete swings in the air, the man looks around, or peers as if he can see Evan, and to his surprise, the man turns away and walks right past the threshold of the room.

“No one’s here, no one’s here, I’m a ghost,” Evan whispers as the man fades from his view. “I’m a ghost.”

The door is once again on the ground, but it doesn’t matter. Evan can see the man walking off toward the hall with the light. 

“I’m a ghost,” Evan stalls on the staircase, “but I’m pretty fucking sure the main breaker is in that area…” Why does he hate his luck? He’s not sure, but he slowly makes his way over to the hall with the bright light. He turns of the camcorder, listening for the sounds of the man he’s also sure is one of the patients. 

He can’t just keep going slow, he has to get the main breaker, and then the lights will turn on. Evan runs for it, taking the dumbest risk, and the sounds of the man breaks the silence and his confidence. Evan runs into the closest room while slamming the door shut. He backs up, glancing around the room with his camcorder, fingers sliding across the night vision button. He was running out of batteries. 

Since he realized he had to be quiet before the power went off, he finally screamed when the man appeared from another door on the other side of the room. It shocked him, but at the same time, sent an adrenaline rush that helped him escape the swinging machete. He sprints for the open door and races down the hall, unsure why he ignored the way he had come from earlier, and jumped over a desk that was on its side. He enters a room to his right, and right away crouched down in amongst piles of bodies that reek heavily, the blood and their entrails squish under his wet shoes. 

His breathing is harsh, and he’s mildly amazed at himself that he held onto his camcorder for as long as he did without once dropping it. 

The man runs into the room, and Evan gasps when he looks in his direction. The machete comes down, and Evan moved away from it before it could slice into his skin, and he’s once more running out of the room.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, what the fuck!?” That man must’ve killed a lot of people, dismembered them with the machete, cut them up into small pieces and tossed their bodies into a room where they’d rot. It was disgusting, disturbing, and if that blade had cut into his skin, he knew he was going to get an infection from the way they lived in this place, and whatever experimentation they had gone through.

Evan isn’t even sure where he’s going as he jumped over another turned over desk and and heads left down a hallway. He checks the door to the right, but it’s locked, not budging, before he pushes himself toward the open door behind him to his left.

“For fuck sakes, why, why, fuck?” Evan asks himself, unsure of what he’s trying to ask. Maybe his own stupidity, or this place was making him dizzy and anxious all in one, a tight ball inside his chest, expanding with each fear induced trauma. He’s not sure, or why he’s thinking about that right now. 

There’s no way out of the room and when he turns, the man doesn’t hit him with the knife, but with his fist. It’s hard enough that it forces black spots in Evan’s eyes, and warm blood gushes out from his nose as he almost topples over, its trickles on the cement while he blinks away the spots. 

“Fuck,” he says, shuddering. 

The man growls, lifting his arm that grips the machete, and Evan evades him, almost slamming against the wall as he runs out of the room, still completely uncertain where he’s going, and almost tripping as he figures out which direction the main breaker is. 

“Where the fuck is it?” he yells.

He covers his nose and wipes the blood on his sweater, just to stop it from coming out as he looks around while trying to escape the man coming after him. He steps over another desk and enters a room, and he notices a larger metal panel against the brick wall, including the same lever the priest had pressed down. He walks over to it and he pushes the lever up. 

“Okay, okay,” Evan turns around, “that was the main breaker, all I have to do is press the button on the panel…” Except he can hear the man’s breathing down the hall. It’s the only one besides his own, and without thinking, Evan hides inside a locker that are pressed against the wall to the left of the panel. 

While inside the locker, he takes out the old battery, and pushes in another. He hopes he’ll be able to find another somewhere around here, but right now, he has to deal with this man entering the room, gripping his machete. 

“Shit,” Evan whispers, watching him amble closer and for a split second, he thought maybe he’d open the locker he was in, but the man reached for the one beside him, the door sliding open before it was slammed shut. 

Going still, he watched through the slits without his camcorder, the figure moves out of the room, his footsteps dragging upon the concrete. It’s a safe enough distance that Evan can try to catch his breath and to figure out a way around him. 

“All I have to do,” Evan whispers, walking slowly toward the door and leaning out to look down the hall, “is to make it to the panel thing...button…” 

He sniffled, and carefully walked down the hall, trying his best to not make a sound as he watched the corners and halls. And then he sprints without actually thinking about it. His anxiety is through the roof, and if he crawled his way back to that large flooded room, he might have a serious break down, and he can’t deal with that while escaping a machete wielding guy.

He jumped into the flooded room, ignoring the way the sound echoed as he ran toward the large green light and he pressed the button. A triumph if it wasn’t for the growling that enter the room.

The room hummed as the lights flicker on, but Evan’s not in the mood to care. He twists away from the panel and sprints out of the room, away from the man who cowers on the ground. 

“Fuck this place,” Evan says as he runs back to the brick wall and he slid through before running up the stairs. The warm yellow lights do nothing for this disturbing place, but it gives Evan a bit of relief that he’s not stuck in the basement, scared out of his mind of what could happen. 

He can’t really think much about how his mental state is, all Evan can think of is the control room, the door with SECURITY lying on the floor, the blood on his hand after getting punched in the face by a machete wielding man who cut people up for the hell of it. 

Evan sat back down in the chair and pulled himself toward the keyboard, he's about ready to start typing before he’s grabbed, and his shriek is cut off by something thin entering his neck. He fell forward, hands on the desk as he tried to shove the man off, and his vision blurred, his mind is sending him the same alarms, but this time, he can’t fully react to them the way that he had. 

“I’m sorry, my son,” the familiar voice of the priest speaks, revealing a syringe in his hand, “I didn’t want to have to do this to you. But you can’t leave, not yet. There is so much yet for you to witness.”

_No. No. Fuck no! No. Please._

Evan’s legs are giving out, and the world tilts as it gets harder for him to stand.  

The priest grabs him, pointing at one of the video feeds. “Will you see it? Can you?” he asks while Evan stares at the men in SWAT gear of some kind, their guns are pointed in some kind of facility. “Our Lord, the Walrider, tearing His truth into the Nonbelievers.” 

“What?” Evan asked, and he spots one of the men getting dragged, another thrown violently against the wall. Blood appears stark on the white surface of the walls and floors. “What the fuck is that? What’s going on?”

“The only way out of this place is the truth,” the priest says in an ominous tone, “accept the gospel and all doors will open before you.” 

Evan’s not sure what’s going on. The bullets do nothing to whatever is attacking them, and Evan’s legs have given out, he’s falling, and the only thing that is keeping him up is the priest who stared at him with wide eyes, and his strange words fade away as everything goes dark. 


End file.
